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Doctrine is a man-made system; teaching is given in the Word, from which doctrine is derived, as the wood, from which the boat is constructed, grows in the forest. The boat is the constant symbol of doctrine, and the boat may be small and leaky. But man has to cross the sea of life, and he cannot cross it without a boat. The vessel of doctrine may be small and leaky, but he cannot know this till he has tried it by short home voyages, and it is only as he finds it imperfect that he can be moved to construct another and a better one. This he must do if he follows sound reason, for

"Reason is upright stature in the soul;"

and as man, trusting in the help of his Heavenly Father, strives to walk uprightly and to look straight before him, he learns new views and attains better states.

We must go forward or backward.

Man is a self-survivor every year;

Man, like a stream, is in perpetual flow.

make our little Do the best we

How necessary, then, is it that we should study to vessel of doctrine as perfect and complete as we may. can we shall find it still imperfect; but what if we do not care to construct it at all! It is a lack of appreciation of the reality and earnestness of life which causes so many to disregard the higher claims of the human soul. The pleasures of life are many and delightful, but the poet cries :

"Who seeks amusement in the flame of battle?'

And if life is found to be the scene of a contest between the good and evil of our nature, then its significance becomes portentously increased. The old Persian idea of two mighty powers of light and darkness ever contending for the mastery over man, was the perversion of an ancient truth. For although we have no genuine warrant for believing that the power of evil and of darkness is independent and self-derived, yet its influence on man is none the less because it is the magnified image of his selfhood. As the morning traveller in the Hartz mountains sees upon the mist of the opposing hill a gigantic image of himself, so the young traveller on the mountain of life beholds his own passions and dark tendencies as an enormous and awful presence outside his nature. Well is it for him if he awakes to this in time, and, instead of occupying himself with the mere toys of life, studies to find his means of spiritual safety in days when he can freely do so. For

"When spirits ebb, when life's enchanting scenes
Their lustre lose, and lessen in our sight,
As lands, and cities with their glittering spires,
To the poor shattered barque, by sudden storm
Thrown off to sea, and soon to perish there;
Will toys amuse? No! Thrones will then be toys,
And earth and skies seem dust upon the scale."

JOT.

va. B.

Obiit June 6th, 1884.

(Hetat 61.)

CHOU saidst, "How short his life—but three-score

years!"

My friend, thou art in error; measure not
A life like his by seasons! 'Twas his lot
'Mid storm and sunshine, joys and bitter tears,
To work unceasing, almost day and night.

His busy brain, and hands, and ready tongue
Scarce knew repose; too oft the thought he flung
Away with laughter! His was one long fight
With difficulties many dared not meet.

In east or west, in north or burning south

He triumph'd in so much, that as he wrought, Rich blessings to mankind sprang where his feet Had trod; while wisdom blossom'd from his mouth! And shall we say of such, "His life was short"?

X.

A Three-Year-Old Truant.

T

HOSE who know the New Walk, Leicester, know that for many reasons it is a pleasant place to live in. It is quiet, respectable, and sufficiently removed from the busy part of the town.

From the fact that it is a veritable walk, and not a carriage-way, it derives a certain prestige in the eyes of those who have young children, as we had at the time we lived there. Our little ones could go out and toddle up and down the walk with their nursemaid, on sunny days, without subjecting their parents to the fear that they might be knocked down by passing vehicles, or entangled among the legs of rampant horses. To the older ones, the Museum was an unfailing source of delight; and indeed to one of the younger ones, for Apple, of whom this story is chiefly written, had the usual love of a boy for miscellaneous articles of a naturally historical description, and if not prevented was constantly making clandestine visits to that classical building. My quiver was full of youngsters at that time, and, thank God! it is full nownot one of them has been selected by the Grim Archer to shoot into the darkness that lies beyond this little life. But at one time we had given Apple up, for we thought we should never look upon his dear little round sun of a face again.

He was not three years old, but he was the very personification of a healthy cherubic little boy. We called him Apple because he was so round-round all over, without a single angle or attenuation. He was youngest but one of a family of seven, all of them boys, and as diverse in temperament and appearance as can be imagined But they all adored Apple. Rex was his real name, and he was Rex indeed, reigning with a kingly little sway among the energetic host. There was something manly about the way he stood about, with his hands in the pockets of his knickerbockers; something manly and straightforward in the way in which he looked you full in the face with his round brown eyes. He was a very stout little lad, and would have been the very model for one of the old painters to draw a Cupid from. It seemed a shame to put clothes on him, he had such a pretty round chubby body; and yet when you had dressed him you could not help feeling how well he filled out his little garments, and how admirably they became him. And then he was 66 so very human." He had his little tempers and

his little expletive. Only one of the latter; one forcible expression is enough for a very small boy to make a great deal of, if vigorously used. Apple's expletive was "cheeky beggar!" cheeky beggar!" His next brother, Dennis, who was equally a character in his way, had come back one morning in great trouble, for his amour propre had been wounded by a strange milkman, who had called him a "cheeky little beggar." This expression took a strong hold of the boy mind all through the house. Every one of the brothers was indignant that such an epithet should have been applied to one of the family, but every one of them unconsciously laid it up for future use, and many were the occasions in the period immediately subsequent to this event, when the paternal repressive authority had to be vigorously exercised on this very matter.

Apple, however, was not to be repressed. If any one committed an injustice upon him, his "cheeky beggar!" came out with loud and unfaltering tones-although he did not know its meaning-accompanied by flashing eyes, and fists which though very small were tightly clenched. And then one had to take up the little atom and reprove him and smooth down his feathers. Then he would be affectionate and submissive, and say, "Apple doot boy, now. Apple love daddy. Apple not say 'cheeky beggar' no more at all." That termination" at all" was characteristic of the little lad. He was so thorough. He was not content with saying he had not had his "tup o' tea "—it had tup o' tea at all"—" Apple not like Tom at all." "howders "—he was very fond of "pitty howders." could illustrate this page with a portrait of him as he would understand the trouble we were in when the events happened which I am about to narrate.

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I had lain all night in a sort of nightmare, made up apparently of a rechauffe of the business of the previous day, which had been of an arduous and slightly unpleasant nature; and a dreamy combat with some evil that hung over Apple. I got up from my uneasy pillow at about seven o'clock, and went to his eldest brother's room, where Apple slept. I found him broad awake in his cot, and took him downstairs to dress him a recreation I sometimes indulged myself in. It was the month of May, but it was not so warm that the fire in the breakfast room was unwelcome.

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Apple like nice hider." (This was the nearest he could come to "fire.")

"Apple don't love daddy?" said I.

"'Es, Apple does."

"What a nice shirt this is. Who made it ? "

"Apple's mammy made it."

"Does Apple love mammy?"

"'Es, Apple does. Apple big schoolman now. Apple go out, no

mammy at all; Apple go out pick pitty howders."

"Oh, not by yourself-go out with daddy, some day."

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“’Um day?” the little fellow repeated wistfully, "No, Apple go outbig schoolman, by his selse. Apple go long, long, big long way an' pick pitty howders."

I little thought, as I dressed the plump little figure, how we should all be thinking of these words in a day or two. The boys began to drop in from their various apartments, "hungry and practical," as Theophilus Trinal says. I think boys are always hungry and practical; and as usual the business of the coming day began to perch itself on the toastrack, to mingle with my tea, and to write itself on the smooth white surface of my matutinal egg.

I had kissed my wife, taken my well-worn umbrella from the stand, and was going out with that weapon against the world, when a vehement little figure darted out after me into the entrance hall, with anger and flush in its face, and a smothered "cheeky beggar" on its tongue. "Daddy no kist me!" Apple shouted.

Bless him for his affectionate heart! what a thrill it sent through me, and how far off for the moment it seemed to put the looming and untoward-looking business world! "A little child shall lead them" said the old Hebrew prophet, referring to certain leopards, lions, and other mystical beasts of prey. And a little child seemed now, in his vehement young strength, to be able to lead all the dreadful creatures which are sometimes the product of a business-man's imagination as he goes forth into the wilderness of his daily life.

I must narrate the incidents which followed as nearly as possible in the order in which they occurred, from information that turned up, bit by bit, afterwards.

I have said that Apple was fond of going to the Museum. I had often taken him there to show him the stuffed animals, which greatly delighted him, as also did the wonderful display of birds and fishes. I little thought that my young son would essay a visit to the building on his own account. But he was very active, and quick on his feet; and on the day in question a plump little figure might have been seen darting out of our house, with a pretty little sailor cap on his head, bearing in gilt letters the name of one of Her Majesty's vessels.

His mother and the servants were busy upstairs, and the little man had a good start before his absence was discovered. The nursemaid

had previously started with baby for his morning airing, and her mistress supposed she had taken Apple with her. As happy as a king, the sun shining on his dear little face, his hands in his pockets as usual, our little Apple started up the New Walk, and made straight for the Museum. 'Hallo, little fellow! Where are you off to?" said the attendant; "Come back."

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"Apple won't come back, cheeky beggar!"

"You won't? Here, stop, you young rascal!”

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Apple no 'ascal. Apple big schoolman. Apple go see pitty birds." Well, you're a rum speciment," said the man, I'll be after you presently;" and he turned to answer the enquiry of some one who had brought a message. The enquiry necessitated some conversation, and

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